The Ten Years
by ClusiveC
Summary: ODIN has struck the United States. The Federation is on the conquest. Logan and David are caught up in the middle of it. These are the first ten years of the war.
1. Chapter I: Harsh Beginnings

_I do not own Call of Duty._

**The Ten Years**

**2016 August**

**The Early Days**

**California**

_Looking back on it now, I realize that the early days of the war represented much more than the base struggle for survival. At the time, it'd felt primal. Hell had found it's mark on earth, and the people were ill-prepared for it. That's what it'd seemed like at the time._

_But now, I can see that it was a test. It was a rite of passage. Our home had become the proving grounds. Those who could pick up the pieces and move on were the ones who lasted. The rest didn't._

_It's strange though. I can't really remember anything of what happened before the attack. It's as if my life never existed beyond the war. It nearly made me cry one night. Because it's hard for me to recall the days when I was a kid. My memories are just... fragmented. Of the early days of the occupation, I can't tell where one memory ends and one begins._

_But I do remember that Logan was always there with me._

* * *

><p>Beneath a misty atmosphere of drizzling rain laid a battered web of various buildings and structures, all linked together by winding streets and tight alleys. Apartment buildings stretched from one horizon to the next, and all of them were the same. Overhead, the sky was a depressing, sickly grey color, and the sun fought with it to pierce the veil to cast light on the weakened city below. Even the birds had decided to stay home this day.<p>

Military vehicles roamed these occupied streets, policing the captured area with a vile swiftness. Armed soldiers walked the roads in pairs, clad in the dark-colored armor of the Federation, sporting powerful assault rifles. A helicopter scanned the city from above, like a hawk, eagerly awaiting it's prey to make a mistake. Atop some of the key buildings in this particular area were the flags of the Federation, proudly proclaiming their conquest of this city. This military power had complete dominion over this place. It was undeniable.

Of interesting note was the local library, located near the center of this urban sprawl, sitting tightly with the flags of it's masters flying on top of it. There was a crowd near the entrance to it. Over a hundred civilians, the people who'd been taken by this occupation, were standing in a tight mass that resembled the faintest makings of a straight line. They were being directed by armed guards. There was a small amount of order. The rest of it was chaos, and fear, and terror. These people were gathered in front of the library for a reason.

It was a supply distribution center. And there was only so much that the Federation was willing to give out.

Madness, indeed.

And Logan, along with David, was caught up in the middle of it. Logan heard the shouts, and the pleading, and the shuffling of the crowd. He felt the heat, and the fear, and the shoving as well. It was all around him. Like a blanket of disorder, shrouding his every breathe. Every other week was this same process, and he still hadn't gotten used to it. The gathering of the masses struck a unique chord within Logan. It was a mixture of emotions, all bottled up into one entity, and it consumed him. He was being swamped in this sea of people.

David led the way through the crowd. They had to gain ground, slipping and brushing and shoving their way past the others. They had to get one of the supply bags. It was imperative. So Logan kept up with his brother as they made their way forward.

The 'Distribution Center' itself was actually a handful of Federation military troop transports, all of which were loaded down with a limited supply of bags that contained necessities. They showed up in this part of the city about once every 2 weeks. Most of the time, it took longer. This was how the Federation was handling the occupation for right now. The people who'd been caught up in the storm were rounded up into major cities and put under martial law. Since the United States military was pushed back, the civilians who were left over were under the control of the Federation. This was how it worked, and Logan and Hesh were a part of that cycle. So being out here to get one of the supply bags was critical.

The local library served as the location of this center. It was a massive building, dominating the scenery with all purpose. It commanded the appreciation of eyes as it stood proudly in the middle of the city. What had once stood as a beacon of learning and hope for Americans was now a main military headquarters building for the Federation. It was their center of operations for not only the city, but the entire part of the state as well. The walkway entrance for it was large enough to hold several transport vehicles, and still have plenty of room left over.

Logan and David had made it to the front. Federation soldiers were throwing the bags to the people; one group at a time, and one bag for a group. They were picking the people at random to come forth and get a bag. Logan watched as the process repeated itself over and over. He suppressed the anger within him, keeping himself as calm as possible. Being calm allowed for clear thinking, and he needed to think clearly.

"You!" A Federation soldier said harshly, pointing a gloved finger at David. "You're next. Who is with you?"

"It's just me and my brother." David told him.

"Both of you, go ahead." The soldier told them. "You know the consequences if you are caught lying to us."

So they both stepped forward to the nearest transport vehicle. There were two Federation soldiers standing on the back of it. One of them sported a high-powered SMG, loosely pointing it in the general direction of Logan and David. The look on his face was impassive; careless. Prepared to kill a thief at a moment's notice. The other soldier had his weapon slung behind his back, reaching for one of the bags. He hefted it and then tossed it on the ground. It landed in a heap, right in front of David.

That was all they were getting.

"Take it and leave. Now." The first Federation soldier told them. The one who'd pointed his gloved finger at David.

David picked up the bag with both hands and signaled for Logan to come. Instead of going back the way they'd come, they were directed to leave down the side entrance of the library. They moved fast, eager to get back to their 'home'. Behind them, the Federation soldier was picking out another person from the crowd. It was a scene that Logan was glad to leave behind. So he walked alongside David as they made their way down a short flight of stairs leading to the street.

The road was noticeably less chaotic than the front side of the library. Mostly everyone they could see was either heading away from the library, or going to it. No one stopped to speak to anyone. Nobody sat around loitering. Everyone was on a mission to get from point A to point B. It was as simple as that.

For Logan and David, their point B was Housing Center 1B. It was the place that they lived their life now. The Federation had these housing centers arranged in specific orders, and everyone lived in an apartment. The west side of town was where the B-designated housing centers were located. Each center was secured with a large gate, surrounding it completely, with only one entrance. If a person was out past the curfew, then they would be stuck outside the gate for the night. It was harsh, but the Federation gave no damn.

They were headed to HC 1B.

"I swear man. It gets worse and worse every time." David said.

"I know. I can't stand it." Logan replied, shaking his head.

"We can't put up with this. We gotta do something."

"Like what? What can we do?"

"We gotta find Elias. I know a way to do that."

Logan looked at David. "You know where dad is?" he asked.

"I don't know where, but I know how to find him." David told him. Then he lowered his voice. "The library. This is a major city, and they're still targeting the nearby resistance cells. Elias _has _to be with one of them. And I know for a fact that the library has some kind of tactical map or something in there that we could get our hands on. _Some _piece of information."

Logan thought for a moment, and then thought for another moment. He blinked twice. "How do you think we're gonna manage to do that? Get one of those maps? How do you even know that there's one in there?"

"It's worth a shot, to me. Somebody needs to do something, and that needs to be us. Remember what Elias told us about -".

David was cut off. Someone ran into him, hard, and knocked the supply bag from his hands.

"David!" Logan yelled.

The attacker got up quick and snatched the bag from the ground, running away. Logan rushed over to David and stooped next to him.

"I'm fine. I'm good." David said, rolling onto his back, a grimace spreading across his face.

Logan nodded and then looked up. Their attacker was running away with their bag. He couldn't let it get away. They depended on those bags too much.

So Logan broke off in a full-blown sprint, chasing the thief. He ran, and ran. People watched from afar as he pursued the attacker. Logan focused on building up as much momentum as he could. He wasn't the fastest out there, but he wasn't slow. Especially when it came down to something like this. He had to go faster. He wasn't gaining any ground. And he didn't know how long he could keep this up.

The attacker looked over his shoulder at Logan for a brief moment, and then cut to the right, down an alleyway. Logan followed suit, leaning into the turn, keeping his speed up. There was a dumpster in the middle of the alley, knocked over by something from before, lying on its front. Instead of circling around it like the thief did, Logan slid across it. He had to keep his momentum up, or he would never catch the guy.

They continued down the alley, still running at full speed. Stray pieces of paper were blown out of the way in the process. Up ahead was a fence, separating one half of the alley from the other. The attacker tossed the bag over it and proceeded to climb the fence. He climbed it slow.

Logan sprinted full-speed to the fence and used his momentum to carry him up the fence as fast as he could. It took him only 2 steps. He clambered onto the top of it, and then leaped down onto the attacker, landing on him with all his weight.

They hit the ground hard. Logan felt it in his bones. Instead of complaining about the pain, he slipped his arm beneath the neck of the attacker and began choking him. They tussled and rolled on the ground, struggling and fighting. The thief tucked his legs in and lifted himself up, while Logan still had him in the headlock. An elbow caught Logan in the side of the head, blurring his vision and sending a sharp pain through his skull. And he loosed his grip. The attacker took advantage of this, turning and swinging a left-handed blow.

It connected and snapped Logan's head to the side. Without wasting time, the attacker threw a right handed punch. This time, Logan threw his arm up and the blow glanced off of his forearm. And then Logan threw a straight jab, slamming his fist directly into his opponent's face. Instead of throwing another blow, he whipped his head forward and smashed his forehead into the attacker's nose, breaking it.

While the thief was stunned, holding his face in pain, Logan grabbed him by the shirt and shoved him into the wall of the alley, head first. The attacker fell to the ground instantly, in a bloody heap, and Logan stumbled back.

Logan rested his hands on his knees, breathing heavily, ignoring the searing pain in his head. He couldn't think straight. He couldn't even stand. So he backed into the wall and slumped to the ground. It was all he could do to keep himself from groaning in pain. There was blood on his shirt, but he was too tired, too worn to even care if it was his. He rested his head back against the wall. Everything in his body felt as if it were on fire.

The attacker lie motionless on the ground. It was over.

"Shit." Logan muttered.


	2. Chapter II

**The Ten Years - Chapter II**

**2016 August**

**Act I - The Early Days**

**California**

_They say that time waits for no man._

_It's impassive. It doesn't care about what's right or wrong. Time doesn't pick sides, nor does it discriminate. It doesn't have an opinion. It doesn't hold grudges. It doesn't even have emotion. It just does it's job, which is moving on._

_When we needed it most, during the early days, time wasn't on our side. The United States suffered blow after brutal blow. We weren't prepared for this type of warfare. Our defenses crumbled, and our morale followed suit. The Federation on one side. The resistant US Forces on the other side. And somewhere in between was the leftover civilian population. The man who'd lived a steady life, making a decent living for his kids, was now wondering when he would be liberated. The woman who'd done all she could so that her child could attend college now had to scavenge for books for her son. These every day people hated the Federation, but they could do nothing about it. It ate them up._

_What the US Forces needed was heroes. People who were willing and able to stand up for something greater than themselves. Martyrs, who wore their allegiance like a badge of honor. The kind of person that did the necessary planning and jump-starting to get the United States back on the right track._

_We had a lot of those people. I met a lot of them over the years. They have my gratitude, and my respect._

* * *

><p>Leonid Zhaetsev understood the risks and returns involved when it came to field reconnaissance. As a young boy growing up in the Urals, Leonid had spent many hours of many days on the prowl. His grandfather had taught him the ways of the hunt. How to assess the field. How to judge distances and locations. Spotting a vulnerable prey. Setting the perfect trap. Observation. Assessment. Tactical insertion.<p>

What separated Leonid from the traditional soldier was not his ability to gather intelligence. It was his drive. His intuition. He lived his life by a code - which was to succeed. Period. It'd kept him alive so far. He planned on staying alive for the time being.

So he walked down Main Street on the outer edges of the city. He kept his pace normal, and his hands down by his sides. He kept an easy, relaxed look on his face, and kept himself from glancing around unnecessarily. Anyone looking at him would've looked away without a second thought. He was just a man, trying to get somewhere.

Leonid walked pass building after building, going block after block, soaking in every single detail. He made mental notes of positions, distances from one object to the other. He estimated the heights of specific buildings. He counted how many Federation guards he passed by. He made mental notes of all of their equipment. The penmaster in his mind was scribbling notes down at hyper-speed. At the same time, the artist in his mind was busy painting a map of everything he'd come across so far, drawing it as close to scale as possible. And the mathematician in his mind, the one who ran the numbers, was busy calculating chances and probabilities. And Leonid kept himself as natural as any person.

Across the street from his current position was an empty park, lying alone in the midst of so many structures. Trees stood proud within the large space, giving their shadow to the ground beneath. It was filled with winding walkways and short bridges and benches. Almost like a miniature nature reserve. So Leonid stood and watched it. He appreciated the work. Somewhere along the line of history, someone had to get out there and set that up. And it'd costed someone else a lot of money. It was a shame that it was no longer used.

Perhaps it will be of use again in the future.

But it wasn't now, so Leonid decided to cross the street. He looked both ways first, even though it wasn't necessary. A habit born of a life filled with walking through cities. As he headed into the park, he dropped something in the middle of the street.

Leonid entered the park, not even bothering to look over his shoulder. It was like casting himself into a separate realm completely. Being this close, he realized just how massive the trees were. They were giants, standing guard for a natural world untouched by the events happening around it. The grass was green, and the air was perfect. For a brief moment, the artist in Leonid's mind had pulled out a snapshot of his home. But it was quickly tucked away back into it's appropriate filing cabinet.

So Leonid briefly reached up and tapped a piece of equipment in his ear. Without pausing in his stride, keeping his appearance as ordinary as possible, he spoke.

"I am finished." He said simply.

A few seconds later came the reply. "You are done? Already?" a female voice asked. "Impressive. Even for you." She said, not waiting for his reply.

"They have done a poor job of securing this part of the city."

"Ohkay. You know what step two is. Get it done."

"Hm." Leonid replied.

He reached back up and snapped off the earpiece.

* * *

><p>"I was thinking last night." David told Logan, sitting up against the wall in their miniature housing unit. The place was as basic as any 'home' could get. There were no decorative additions at all. There was only one restroom. The floor was hard, creaking wood. Everything was down-scaled to be as cheap as possible.<p>

"Still going on about that sudden revelation you had last week?" Logan asked, fitting on a cape for the General in his miniature toy army. Logan had painted and built every single individual soldier in all four of the toy armies he had. It'd been his hobby for a long time, and he spent a lot of time working on it. He had two of these armies spread out before him on the floor, facing each other, with one on his right, and the other on his left.

"No, not that." David shook his head softly, and then closed his eyes. "I can't remember mom's voice. I can't picture her face anymore."

Logan placed the General on the floor, in between both of the toy armies. "Think of something that stands out in your mind."

"I already did, but it ain't helping. I just remember her being nice, and sad, and regretful."

In front of him, Logan surrounded the General with several Honor Guard soldiers. "She wasn't _that _nice."

"You're right. To _me, _she wasn't nice. But she had you spoiled like hell. I couldn't do anything without you running off and telling her about it." David said with a smile on his face.

Logan laughed. "I wasn't 'telling'. I was reporting. There's a difference."

"If you say so." David told Logan. "But Megan Campbell? Now _she _was nice."

Logan took the time to put a unit of heavy infantry on the right flank of the General's army. Without having a secure flank, the General would fall in the battle. Without having a General, the army would be in disarray. Without having order and tact, the entire force would be crushed. Without having a force, the battle would be lost completely.

And then he said, "You mean the girl that doesn't know you exist?"

David sighed. "She was all over me, man."

They shared a laugh, reminiscing of days past. But then, there was a frantic knock at the door. _Band-bang-bang. Bang-bang-bang. _It was an urgent knock. One that was demanding for an answer. Both Logan and David shot up to their feet. It sounded as if there was some commotion going on outside. David walked down the short hallway to the door, and Logan followed suit, carefully stepping around his miniature battlefield.

Without asking who it was, David pulled open the door to see several Federation soldiers standing there.

"Step aside." One of them said. He was standing directly in front of David, face to face. Logan assumed he was the leader of the small group, because he'd spoken up first.

They were all fully-equipped, sporting various assault rifles, looking deadly and efficient. They were calm. Logan couldn't read the expressions on their faces. These guys were professional soldiers.

"The hell is this about?" David asked, looking at the soldier in front of him in the eye.

"We're looking for someone," he told David. They were engaged in a silent battle of wills. Staring each other down. It raged beneath the surface, like a mental war erupting between the both of them.

"What makes you think they're in here?"

"It doesn't matter what I think. The only thing that matters is what's going to happen."

"Nothing's going to happen. Not if I have something to say about it."

Logan could feel his adrenaline begin to pick up. He flexed his hands and loosened his stance. From the look of things, this wasn't going to end well. Neither David nor the Federation trooper was willing to back down.

"I don't give a damn what you have to say." The soldier told David.

"I don't give a damn what you're here for. Now get the hell out of my face."

The soldier squinted his eyes. For the longest moment ever, they stood eye to eye. It was like a wild-west showdown. A versus battle.

The Federation soldier took a step forward and raised his weapon slightly, brushing past David. "Step aside, kid. Before you get hurt." The rest of the soldiers did the same, and they forced themselves into the room, loosely aiming their weapons at both Logan and David.

Logan stepped aside, watching them as they barged in without permission. He saw the burning anger on David's face, and hoped that David wouldn't do something to get them both killed. Logan felt that same rage as well, but he knew that it wouldn't do any good to spark up a fight. The soldiers were armed, and they weren't.

The leader of them, the one that had briefly dueled David at the front door, took a slow look around the small apartment. "Spread out and search everywhere. Don't miss _anything._" He told them. "And if either one of those two try anything, don't hesitate to put a bullet in him."

And with that, they began scouring the cramped place. They threw things around, checking and searching with no remorse. They ransacked the entire place. They stepped over the two armies that Logan had place out on the floor. It was a quick process, altogether, but it felt like it lasted for hours.

And Logan stood beside his brother, David, and the both of them watched. They couldn't do anything _but _watch.

The soldier in charge was sifting around for evidence when he found a picture lying on top of the small counter in the kitchen. He studied the picture for a while.

"Who is this?" He held the picture up so that David and Logan could see it.

On the picture was a young lady, barely over 20 years of age. She had short, dark black hair that flowed about her head in waves. It was one of those pictures that you take of someone when they don't know about it. The girl on it was staring off into a beautiful sunset, sitting down on a swing. Her dark black eyes were inquisitive, as if they were lost in thought.

Both Logan and David tensed up slightly.

"Why don't you get out of here already?" David demanded, a frown on his face.

The soldier turned around. "You're right." He said. Then he looked to the rest of his squad. "Take them."

It took a brief moment for the realization to hit Logan. Everything seemed to close in around him, as if it were about to crush him. He felt something in his bones. A feeling that he rarely ever experienced. It consumed him.

"No!" David shouted, stepping forward, his hands balled into tight fists.

The soldiers all raised their weapons at them. The safeties were thumbed off. There was nothing that they could do.

One of the troopers produced two sets of handcuffs.

* * *

><p>The Federation soldier who was in charge of the search squad for Housing Center 1-B was Ricardo Morales.<p>

All day long, Command had been flooding the local chatterweb about some Russian guy who "Posed a significant threat" to the operations in the area. They'd locked down the entire city, completely. The streets were bare, with the only people on it being Federation troops. A frantic, foolish hunt for the person had been persisting throughout the length of the day, and they had yet to find the guy. Ricardo was pissed off at it. He'd been searching for this suspected 'threat' all day long.

His CO was demanding results, however. So Ricardo _had _to bring in something for him. Anything, really. He hated that fact, but his CO was a hard-ass who'd spent his entire career shouting orders and kissing ass for promotions. In turn, the guy didn't tolerate failure too well.

So Ricardo had ordered his squad to seize the two young guys that they'd come across. He knew for a fact that they had no idea where the Russian was, but he needed to bring someone in before the day was over. It was unfortunate for those two. But the older one had pissed him off anyway. The damn kid hadn't known when to shut up.

His COM piece came to life.

"Morales, have you found anything?" The Dispatcher asked.

Ricardo looked around the apartment briefly.

"I have two that I am bringing in. We're finished with our scan of 1-B." Ricardo reported.

"Very good. Bring it in for the night. We'll see what tomorrow brings."

And with that, the Dispatcher was gone. Ricardo turned off the earpiece built into his helmet, and then looked back down at the picture in his hand.

The girl in it look faintly familiar. As if he'd seen her in passing at some point in his life. Or if she'd been in some weird dream that he'd had a long time ago. He couldn't piece it together. It was bugging him. But he couldn't put his finger on why it bugged him so much.

A Federation soldier appeared in the doorway, and Ricardo quickly slid the picture into a pouch on his belt. "Sir, we're all set for exfil."

"Ohkay. I'm on my way down."

The young soldier nodded quickly and then briskly walked away.

Ricardo pulled his helmet off, wrapping his head in the cool air of the room, running his gloved hand through his short hair. He walked to the door, carrying his helmet in his hands, with his rifle slung over his shoulder. He paused for a moment. And then he blinked two times. And after that, he stepped out of the room, shut the door, and headed downstairs to the waiting transport.

As he headed down the long hall, he strangely felt as if he was trespassing on owned territory. The Federation was in control of this city, but it didn't sit well with him to be invading these people's distributed 'homes'. It wasn't that he felt regret about doing it. But he was a soldier, and he fought wars. He should be out on the frontlines, fighting against the American soldiers. Not sitting on his ass everyday, overseeing a bunch of civilians who had nothing to do with it. Being a soldier was his life. It was what he knew - what he understood. It wasn't that he enjoyed it. It was more of a sense of belonging. Like he _belonged _in the battle. When he wasn'tin the mix of a war, his life felt like it was out of place.

Ricardo had tried the normal life out when he was a kid. But growing up in a school filled with bullies had built him into something that he wasn't proud of.

His mom had been single and struggling. To this day, Ricardo still remembered each individual expression she'd get on her face whenever she received bad news about something. His thoughts traveled back to when he spent nights watching TV with her, sometimes feeling good, and sometimes not feeling good.

But now, he was a soldier. He was living the life he'd been set into. Playing the cards that he'd been dealt. So as they arrived at the Troop Area, Ricardo slid his helmet back on, and hopped out the back of the armored truck. Guard troops were stationed all around the area, on high alert because of the Russian. There weren't that many troops out though, because it was night time, and because they had to get rest, like any other human being. But the CO didn't rest. He never rested.

His job was to _do _his job. He would rest when he got to Hell.

So Ricardo headed to the Lieutenant's Quarters, while the rest of his squad headed to the Barracks building. The LQ was actually a small, cleaned out gas station that the Federation was using until things settled down more. It was rag-tag at best, but it would serve it's purposes. Ricardo headed to the back area of it, where the CO sat behind his desk, a pen scribbling away at a page filled with words.

The CO looked up as Ricardo walked in. "I have some news, Sergeant. Some news that you might appreciate." Lt. Rodriguez told him. "We've gotten word of a small unit of American troops nearby. They're platoon-sized, and lightly armed. We're thinking that this maybe a reconnaissance patrol. If our estimates are correct, then these troops are all veterans of the opening skirmishes in Los Angeles and San Diego. They're skilled, either way." Rodriguez said.

"Sounds a little strange, sir. You sure that it's just a platoon-sized force?"

"Your job is not to question, Ricardo. We are at war. We do what we must." The Lieutenant told him. "You will assemble a strike team, and then move out at 0930 tomorrow morning." The CO said, looking Ricardo directly in the eyes. "You will find this enemy, and you will destroy them."

"I apologize if I spoke out of turn, sir. But it seems strange to me that they would send a patrol near here. They know we have this area under control. What do they need to recon? There's no need for them to risk lives for a patrol that won't give them any new information. It just sounds like bait, Lieutenant." Ricardo said.

"Is that all, Sergeant?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good. You will eliminate this threat. End of story. Are we clear?"

"It will be done, sir."


	3. Chapter III

**The Ten Years - Chapter III**

**2016 August**

**Act I - The Early Days**

**California**

_How do you determine if a cause is just? Can you measure it? Can you grade it? Where does the side of right differ from the side of wrong?_

_The troopers of the Federation were more than just basic soldiers. They believed in their cause. It fueled their war-machine. They lived and breathed this war, because they felt that it was what they'd been born to do. Rarely did they do a poor job at anything. They were steadfast._

_But we were always stronger. They'd always been doomed from the start. We had more to fight for than they did. Our very way of life was being violated. Our blood had been spilled, on _our _land. It was a much rougher situation for us. All that it'd taken was a spark. Hope was what we'd needed._

_I remember it still. I'll always remember it._

* * *

><p>Lately, the city has been in somewhat of a buzz. The days seemed to go by faster, and there seemed to be more Federation troops and vehicles filling it. Word got out that a battle had ensued some where near the outskirts of the city. A skirmish between the Federation and some American soldiers. Nobody was sure what'd exactly happened, but rumor had it that the Federation had suffered a loss. It had the local civilian population excited. They'd been reminded that the war was still going on - that it wasn't lost. That the Federation was still vulnerable.<p>

It's just street talk, mostly, but it still delivered the hope.

In other news, for over a week now, the Federation has been hunting Leonid Zhaetsev mercilessly. It all started when the body of a young Federation soldier had been found inside of a dumpster one afternoon. After investigating the crime scene, the Federation had found a destroyed ear microphone lying on the ground behind the dumpster. Their Field Technicians and Communications Engineers had spent an entire day messing with the piece of equipment. Eventually, their fruitless efforts were rewarded. They'd managed to produce a very short, garbled recording of a man's voice, speaking quietly and with a Russian accent. And from then on, the hunt had been set to full-pursuit.

Leonid was aware of all of this. It was all a part of the plan. He'd purposely sparked off a confrontation with the lone Federation soldier. Then, without warning, he'd struck. A quick, lightning-fast strike to the throat was enough to crush the windpipe. And for good measure, a follow-up, full strength headbutt had been enough to shatter the nose and daze the Federation soldier, cause him to fall, and cover his entire face with blood. Afterwards, Leonid had quickly stripped the soldier of some key equipment, and then he gave the soldier a quick stomp to the head, and finally tossed him into the dumpster. Bleeding and broken and raspy breathing and all. Like a heap of dead weight, broken and unwanted. And then Leonid had put a lock on the dumpster - trapping the bleeding soldier within.

After all of that had happened, Leonid had shook his earpiece out of his ear. It'd hit the ground with a small, metallic _thumpp. _He'd stomped it one good time, to give it enough of a break to be officially broken beyond repair, but not enough of a break to be shattered to pieces. He'd kicked it behind the dumpster, out of sight, but not too out of sight, so that it could be found if someone was looking for something interesting, which was what the Federation MPs would've been investigating for.

Satisfied at all of that, Leonid had pulled off his backpack, knelt on the ground, and opened it. Inside of it were some key things that Leonid needed. He'd picked up the Federation helmet that he'd taken off of the soldier and stored it in his bag. He'd put a few other things in there, too, but not too many. Leonid had read reports of earlier engagements that the Federation had been in before the war on the US, and he'd learned a lot about the way they worked. An example, for instance, was the built in communications software that was installed in every Federation helmet, known as THCS, or Tactical Helmet Communications System. He'd intended to use the helmet to keep him updated on the movements of the Federation.

Taking one last look at the scene, and finding it to his satisfactory, Leonid had taken off. He'd walked at a basic pace. Not too fast, not too slow. He'd kept his appearance as neutral as he could. Other than his higher than average build, Leonid looked like anyone else, for the most part.

He'd become invisible, just that quick. And no Federation soldier has come in direct contact with him since.

* * *

><p>The reason why was because Leonid Zhaetsev was extremely meticulous and careful. Rarely, if ever, did he make a mistake. And he was one step ahead because of the helmet that he'd taken from the dead Federation soldier.<p>

So he'd 'broken' into an unused apartment in Housing Unit 1-B. It was perfect for Leonid, because the two individuals who'd lived there before had been taken captive by the Federation. No one would come snooping around here - Why would anyone need to get inside of an apartment that was supposed to be locked down completely?

_Perfect, _Leonid thought. And then he thought about some more stuff. And then he thought about some other things. And then the mathematician in his head ran a quick calculation. At the same time, Leonid wrote down some notes onto a small sketchbook. To the unknowing observer, the notes looked like a bunch of random words that made no sense. But to Leonid, it made perfect sense.

The Federation was about to move Elias' boys to the regional prison.

Leonid ripped out the sheet of paper with the notes on it, balled it up, and shot it into a trash can.

Then, Leonid pulled the second earpiece that he had - a perfect copy of the one that he'd broken earlier - out of his backpack. He stuck it into his ear and then tapped a small button on it.

"Alena, are you there?" He asked.

It took a few seconds for the reply. Leonid's mathematician counted 7, to be exact. "Yes." She said.

"They're moving them."

"Moving who?"

"The boys. To the prison. Tomorrow night." He told her.

There was a 1 second interlude before she asked him, "How do you know this?"

Instead of answering her question right away, Leonid said, "You should get some sleep. It's good for the blood, I've heard."

"_What? _What are you talking about?" Alena asked him, completely caught off guard.

"You know. Sleep. The thing that normal humans do. You should try it some time. Really."

"Thanks for the advice, Leonid. I'll be sure to follow up on that. After all, you know everything."

Leonid smiled briefly. Which was a rare sight. "Trust me. On both the friendly advice, and the question you asked me, about how I know they're moving the two boys. Elias isn't going to like it one bit. Make sure he doesn't do anything to jeopardize our operation here."

Leonid heard her sigh for a moment. "What are you going to do about it?"

"I'm going to go to prison about it. Literally."

"I hope you know what you're doing, Leonid."

"Trust me." He told her.

And then Leonid snapped off the earpiece and slipped it into his back pocket. He stood up from the floor and stretched. It'd been a long day, filled with information gathering and evasion. The Federation didn't know what he looked like, but they knew what to look for. So most of his time was spent inside the apartment.

Other than the everyday work that he did outside the apartment, there wasn't much for him to do. The apartment was filled with miniature toy soldiers, and Leonid couldn't help but wonder which one of Elias' sons was responsible for it. They were everywhere. On counters, in the bathroom, on the floor, inside cabinets. There had to be hundreds of them. On top of that, there was little to eat in the fridge.

Because of the risk of getting caught, Leonid purposely avoided going to the supply area in front of the library. So most of the food he had was stuff that he'd stolen from other people's apartments while they were gone. The rest of it was the remaining food left that the two boys had. It wasn't much to live off of. But Leonid had been in much harsher situations before, so he wasn't new to it.

Either way, it was about to end now. He needed to get caught without them knowing that he was the Russian that they were looking for. So he gathered all of his belongings, which was hardly much at all, and shoved it into his small backpack. And then he walked out of the apartment.

* * *

><p><strong><em>Exactly 4 days later<em>**

The in-processing hadn't been easy. It'd been far from it.

First, there'd been the mad dash from the bus to the prison itself. At midnight, when everything was pitch black, the only light sources were the moon and the one bright light that'd been shining on them. Logan had been thinking how crazy the situation was - that he was a POW in his own country. The Federation gave no shit to this, however. It was all about lockup.

They'd searched them, and then had ordered them to remove their clothing. Logan had hated it. Everyone was too close. Everything had been too chaotic.

Then the Federation had shoved a handful of clothes to each one of them. A plain white long-sleeved shirt, with plain white pants. All during this, the Federation guards had been shouting at them, _screaming _at them. Logan had never dressed up that fast before, in his entire life. The shirt was a bit too big, and the pants were a bit too small. Luckily, his shoes had been a decent fit.

And then came the cell assignments. This was where Logan had lost track of David. All of them, 22 prisoners in total, had been shoved and hauled into a tight hallway, where everything was too dark. They'd been set into a rough line, and the guard at the front of it was assigning cells to them. When it'd came Logan's turn, he hadn't heard a word that the guard had said. Another Federation soldier, however, had grabbed him by the collar and yanked him, screaming, "Move!". And so Logan trudged along where he was ordered to, passing by other cells as he went. He could see the other prisoners, all of which looked older than him, and like they truly belonged here.

But right now, as Logan was laid out on his bunk, he couldn't recall a second of it. That was the only thing he could do - think and wait. His cell was extremely tight, with his bunk taking up nearly half of it. Luckily, he was the lone occupant of this one. He preferred to be alone. But in this setup, he had nothing to do but stare up at the cracked, decaying ceiling and let his mind wander. He hadn't seen David since the in-processing craze, or any of the other prisoners that'd been with them. So he sighed, and rolled over onto his side, staring at the wall on the other side of the cell.

At random, Logan briefly wondered if he would ever get all of his soldiers back - the ones that he'd spent so much time building and painting.

And then, he began to hear some commotion outside the cell. There was movement, and voices, and dancing shadows along the brick walls. There was the sound of cell bars being slid to the side. Logan realized that something interesting was going on. He stood up from the bed and stretched, and then walked over to the bars and gripped them, looking out into the hall.

The guards were moving people somewhere.

One of them came face to face with Logan. He was tall and big, and had a scar running along the side of his face, but Logan didn't back away. Instead, he looked the guard straight in the eye.

"Step back." The soldier told him.

Logan stepped away from the bars and asked, "What's going on?"

The guard opened the cell and motioned for Logan to step out of it. Because he had nothing better to do, Logan exited the cell and took a look down the hall. Guards were herding prisoners into some general direction. So Logan assumed that he was a part of that group, and he caught up to them. Noticeably, the Federation soldiers were less brutal than they'd been during the in-processing. There weren't any warning gunshots going off, nor was there any screaming.

Eventually, after going down hall after hall, their group of prisoners had increased in size dramatically. Logan spent the time trying to memorize the layout of the prison. He'd counted the turns, and the distances between each turn, and the degree of each turn, so he had a fairly crude map of where they'd been so far drawn out in his head. At the moment, he hadn't seen any chances for a possible escape, at all. The guards were all smart, and there were plenty of them. They didn't make any reckless moves and they stayed on point. Trying anything would've resulted in a bullet to the gut, or worse.

After trekking through the prison for 13 minutes, they arrived at a large pair of doors. They led to a gigantic open area outside. Logan had to shield his eyes after not seeing the sun in nearly 2 days. There were watchtowers set up around the outskirts of the place, each one with a pair of guards armed with rifles. And benches and tables were scattered about, occupied with other prisoners and such. And there were prisoners everywhere. Logan had no idea where to go, or what to do.

So he found an empty bench that was located in the shade, set against the wall, and sat there. He could see the entire space from where he sat, and it was shaded from the sun. He guessed it was as good a spot as it could get. And then he took a look at general population.

Everyone was more or less the same. It was just a big sea of dirty white uniforms, all bound together and stuff. At first, Logan thought it was odd how it was a mix of women and men. He thought that they didn't do that - that they were supposed to separate men and women. But then he remembered that it was the Federation that he was dealing with, and the slight frown on his face disappeared. The Federation didn't give a damn about rules like that. It was all about command and power when it came to them. There were pockets of people spread about, and then there were the smaller groups in between those larger ones that consisted of 2 - 4 people. And then there were the individuals situated somewhere between all of those groups.

Logan sat forward and rested his elbows on his kneecaps, rubbing his hands together.

There was a small little squad of about 4 other prisoners heading his way. Heading straight for him. They looked to be a bit older than Logan, and they didn't look too friendly, judging by the stupid looks on their faces. On top of that, there was a leader in the squad, as usual - who was the bald headed guy in front of the rest of them. Obviously, they were hostile.

Logan sighed, took a quick look around, and then stood up slowly. He raised his chin above the regular height level, as usual, and straightened his back, like he usually did. And then he took a step forward, which caused a brief stutter in the stride of the approaching squad.

Before they reached him, he spoke up, taking another step forward. "We really gonna do this?" He asked.

They ignored his question and stopped about 5 yards in front of him.

Logan repeated his question. "I mean, we're _really _gonna do this?"

As expected, the bald guy spoke for the group. "We don't have to do this if you move. So get to stepping."

"I don't know if I can do that. I kinda like this spot. It's all shady, and stuff."

"Don't try to be a smart guy, kid. Now get the hell out of here."

Logan was starting to really get pissed. Really pissed. All four of them looked like big dumb idiots. And that one guy's bald head was beginning to annoy Logan. Along with that stupid look on his face. But Logan kept his face impassive. Then he said,

"You've got a multiple choice test here. Option A, you leave me be. The earth starts back rotating. Everything goes smoothly." Then he said, "Option B, you _don't _leave me be. And then you don't leave from this spot at all, unless it's on a stretcher."

The bald headed guy stepped forward and got in Logan's face. "What you gonna do, boy?"

Logan shook his head. "You just failed the test, miserably. But I'm willing to let you retake it. I'll give you three seconds to back away from me and leave."

The guy just stood there, looking all phony and foolish. So Logan said, "Three."

And then, without counting any more, Logan delivered a full-powered, left leg kick to the guy's shin. Nobody expects an opening attack to be a kick to the leg if you're in a 'street' fight. It's all about punches to most people. Logan wasn't one of those people. That kick caused immediate, excruciating pain, especially since it was his left leg. Logan's follow-up attack was the punch that the bald-headed guy was originally expecting, which connected on the guy's temple. And just like that, baldy was down and out.

Logan was already reacting to the blow that was coming his way from one of the other prisoners. He ducked beneath the wild punch and then sent a blow to this guy's stomach, as hard as he could. Logan moved as fast as he could. He stood back up and elbowed the second guy's head in the back, while he was doubled over. It was a magnified blow, because gravity had been helping Logan that time. The guy fell face first and hit the concrete ground.

The other two prisoners, surprisingly, were moving to attack Logan. He'd expected them to back off after seeing what happened to their leader and the 2nd dude.

The one on his right threw a hook, and Logan had to block it with his forearm. The blow rattled his bones and his teeth. It would've been catastrophic if that punch had landed.

Logan responded by giving the guy a straight jab, snapping his head to the side and causing him to step away. At the same time, the prisoner on his left rushed to tackle him, and Logan barely turned in time. He was hit full force in the stomach, and it knocked the breath out of him. It also caused a great deal of pain to his midsection.

But Logan had slipped his arm around the guy's head before they hit the ground.

They landed hard, and it hurt badly, but not as bad as the prisoner who's head hit the ground first. Logan had the prisoner's head trapped within the crook of his arm, and he immediately wrapped his legs around the prisoner's legs. And then he started to squeeze as hard as he could. With all of his might.

And then there was a gunshot. It pierced Logan's awareness. It was loud and distinct. There was a lot of screaming going on, and Logan wanted to hurt this guy as bad as possible, but he wasn't stupid. He let go and then rolled away, standing to his feet. He saw a Federation guard standing a few feet away from him, with a pistol pointed up in the air.

"You! Come with me!" The soldier shouted at Logan, aiming his gun at him now.

_Man he got here quick, _Logan was thinking.

Logan rested his hands on his knees, breathing hard. He looked around and saw that a crowd had gathered around. He spat on the ground, falling to one knee. He hadn't realized just how much that fight had taken out of him.

"_Move!_" The Federation soldier yelled.


	4. Chapter IV

_I missed months with this story. At first, I wasn't going to continue. But then I saw that there were 11 followers. People who'd waited for me to update. And I hadn't updated anything. I owe those people an apology._

_I'm not going to write out any excuses, because none of them are good. But I'm not going to quit on this story anymore. Even if it doesn't get the attention it had, I'm going to finish it. I have to._

_And so, about half a year later, here is Chapter IV._

**2016 August**

**Act I - The Early Days**

**California**

_There is one thing I can remember vividly about life before the war._

_Life had been _simple. _So simple. There was always order. A daily routine. Structure. All of that. Things made sense back then. Mom was gone, but Dad and Logan were always there._

_But we got separated from Elias after shit hit the fan. And then came prison, where I got split up from Logan._

_I knew that Logan could take care of himself - Elias had taught us good. But I'm his big brother._

_I'd needed to protect him. It's in my blood._

* * *

><p><em>Maybe I should have just let them have it. It was just a bench. It wasn't worth this.<em>

'This' was a brutal trip to some stretch of the prison that had nothing but cages running along down either side of a long hall, about 100 yards in distance. Most of the cages were empty. And the smell of the place was beyond sick. It was like the smell _existed. _Like a living entity. To add to that equation, it was very dark here. The few lights that actually worked were dimming out. As if they'd taken all they could from the foul stench, and were on the verge of giving out any second.

Logan was on the verge of giving out any second. He couldn't take it. He felt so dirty and exposed here. Both of those feelings were foreign to him. Anger was beginning to seep into him. But his anger wasn't as strong as his hunger. At this point, Logan would eat anything that they'd throw him. Well, mostly anything. He wouldn't eat another human being - ugh.

All those zombie games were getting to him.

He shook his head to clear it. Escape was what Logan needed. He'd been getting pretty far in his mental map of the prison - or so, he thought. If the map was accurate, Logan's personal icon - his face - was located far up on the map. The legend on the right side of his brain had the icons that represented the other places in the map. In his mind, the icon of a very powerful green and black alien from a future timeline represented the cells that Logan had been at. Those cells were far down on his mental map.

Logan couldn't break out until he had David with him. He had no choice but to assume that David was in one of the cells - and the only cells Logan had encountered had all been on the same wing of the building. So, mentally, Logan created an icon to represent David. It was his face, next to a question mark. He placed that icon on the cell block that he'd been in. David was possibly there.

Which meant that, logically, David was possibly _not _there. So if Logan tempted some break out, and went looking for David, there was a 50-50 chance of him locating David in that cell block. Like flipping a coin. A 50% chance to get it right. A 50% chance to get it wrong.

Logan needed to increase his odds by at least 35% before he could risk it. So, 50 + 35 totaled up to be 85.

What you do to one side of the equation, you must do to the other. Or something like that. Math class was stupid.

So, he subtracted 35 from the 50 point bet that he would get it _wrong_. It came out to be 15 points left behind. The score would then be 85 to 15. With Logan having a comfortable lead.

But the match wouldn't be over at that point. There was a 4th quarter. And it was a super-bowl match. So the other team wouldn't let him get away that easy. Because Escape Attempt + Failure to find David = Failed Escape Attempt. Which was congruent to Loss of Life.

And there were the random events that could pop-up. Random encounters that you have.

Logan shook his head and dismissed the stupid thoughts that he'd been having. He took a look around.

What he could see didn't impress him. The Federation boys were slacking. The single guard that patrolled up and down the aisle of cages was overweight and very distracted. He was whistling to himself. Talking to himself. And he kept yawning, as if he was beyond bored. Which Logan could understand. What Logan _couldn't_ understand, however, was how the guard seemed unfazed by the smell. But Logan spotted and heard the fat ring of keys jingling from the belt of the guard.

He could try out something. The pace that the guard walked at had him passing Logan's cell every 7 minutes and 23 seconds, with a margin of error at about +/- 8. Logan calculated the distance between him and the guard, when the guard passed him, to be less than 1 yard - the aisle was extremely cramped. He didn't care too much about that distance.

What he cared about was the height of his cage - which was definitely more than 1 yard.

While the guard's back was turned, Logan tested something. He tested his strength. How he did that was by giving the side of the cage that would be facing the guard a small shove.

The cage leaned with it.

Interesting. Brilliant. Logan could shove his cage as hard as he could as soon as the guard got in front of him. The momentum from his cage as it toppled over would cause the guard to fall down with it. The guard would be caught between Logan's cage, and the ground. So, not only would the guard be pinned, but Logan would have ease-of-access to the keys hanging from his belt.

What could the guard do to stop him? He would be pinned.

Logan could release the lock on the top of his cage, crawl his way out, and be on his way.

It sounded like a good plan. And he had no plan B.

He leaned back in his cell and waited, trying to appear as casual and annoyed as possible. In the background of noise, Logan heard a faint dripping sound. They needed to get that fixed. And he tried to block out the smell, which he failed miserably at. His stomach growled in anger, but he ignored it. There weren't any other prisoners locked up near him - the nearest one was about 8 cages down to Logan's left.

_Could I _free_ them? Could I spark up a riot?_

Logan played with the thought for a minute. He played with it in his mind, pulling and stretching at it like play-doh. He turned the thought into a basketball and shot a 3-pointer into a fake goal. Score.

If he freed up everyone in here, he could get them to cause a big enough debacle to keep the guards at bay. With any luck, Logan could use the disarray to get his hands on a cell key. Boom - he would have instant access to all the cells in at least one wing of the prison. That meant about 100+ angry, pissed off prisoners. With so many prisoners set loos, he would almost be certain to locate David.

Logan smiled faintly. Game over.

Well, not yet. The guard was heading back down this way. Logan sighed loudly, as if he wasn't interested in shit down here. A whistling tune started to get louder as the guard approached.

"Hey, dude, you got any air freshener?" Logan said quietly.

As expected, the guard couldn't hear him. Whistling stopped as the guard approached his cage and stood right in front of it.

"I said, do you got any -" Abruptly, Logan shoved his cage forward as hard as he could.

It gave, and he slammed into the guard. The weight of the cage, plus Logan's force of shove, caused the guard to stumble and fall with the cage. The trip down was short and hard. As soon as they touched floor, Logan reached through the bars of the cage to the guard's keyring. There was a brief struggle as the guard tried in vain to fight him off. It was a futile effort. The cage weighed too much. And the guard wasn't in good enough shape.

Logan grabbed the keyring and yanked it hard, ripping them from the guard's belt. Without wasting any time, he unlocked his cage - there were 10 keys, and all of them were identical. He hadn't even needed to try any of them out. He pushed the top of the cage out and crawled through it. He got his legs out and stomped the guard in the face, hard. Logan felt and heard a crunch. The nose was broken. He stomped again, and this time, the guard stopped moving.

Logan got out of the cage entirely, and the rest of the prisoners were zoned in on his actions.

"Everybody listen up." Logan said, just loud enough for them all to hear him. "We need to spark up a riot. But we can't do that if we act stupid. I need you all to follow me and keep quiet until we reach the cell blocks."

Logan looked around after that. He didn't know if they were with him or not. He had to hope that they were. But in the worst case scenario, they would just be random prisoners running free inside of a prison. That would be enough to start up a distraction long enough for Logan to locate David. And so Logan began unlocking their cages. He moved all the way down the line on the left side first, and then he hit the right side.

Good start.

* * *

><p>Leonid knew what being in prison felt like. Prison pre-USA and Federation War, at least.<p>

This was different. This was stupid. The mathematician in his mind was mad at him for ignoring the probability of success for this little move. But the artist in his mind was praising the creativity behind it. Leonid's mental penmaster had nothing to say.

The guy sitting across from Leonid had something to say. "So, what're ya in for? Heh." The prisoner asked.

Their cell was too tight. With one bunk on each side of the room, they hardly had any room to move. Leonid was stretched out on his bed, looking into the ceiling.

"Damn dudes caught me wit my gun." Leonid said, masking his Russian accent with a perfect southern American one.

"This shit is so messed up. I managed to keep the US government from arrestin' me, but here I am, sitting in a Federation-run prison, _inside _the United States. Life done turned into shit." The guy said.

Leonid felt the same way.

His life back then had been different from this one. Back then, he'd been something different. A highly valuable asset, was how some had put it. The Urals had churned him out. His grandfather Viktor had molded him when he was just a young boy. The result had been something that hadn't quite fitted in with normal society.

Leonid was used to being on assignments. Having missions that needed to be completed. Serving to fulfill the purposes of someone higher than him. The in-between had always seemed like shaky ground to him. He'd never quite known how to simply _enjoy _life. He just knew how to live it. School had been a breeze for him - beyond easy, to the point where he simply got tired of it and dropped out. Working a simple job had turned out the same way. Leonid had risen to a high-managing position within his company within about 5 months after getting hired. It was a stupid job, and that's why Leonid had quit it.

Instead of doing any of that junk, Leonid had decided to join the military. That was when he'd found his calling.

He heard some calling now. Shouting outside of the cell. Screaming. Leonid scrambled to sit up, and he rushed over to the cell door. His cellmate did the same.

They could hear some loud shouting and scuffling. And what sounded like bones breaking. Somewhere out there, a gunshot went off. But the sounds still came. Leonid strained to see anything in the hall outside. Rushing down the hall from the right were 3 armed security guards. All of them were yelling into their mics. They sprinted past Leonid's cell without stopping. He could hear combat waging out there to his left, along with rifle discharges.

About 25 seconds later, a storm of inmates came rushing down the hall from that direction. Some of them were carrying rifles. They were yelling and shouting loudly.

_An uprising!?_

In the middle of the pack, Leonid spotted someone. A boy about 16 years old, dressed in dirty inmate fatigues, carrying a pistol in his hand. The boy was giving out orders.

Elias' boy, Logan. Had he done this?

* * *

><p>Logan was directing the charge from the front. Commanding his army at the head of the pack. He was the general here. His soldiers were following his orders precisely. The enemy general, whoever he was, was commanding from the rear. Coward general. Logan was winning the battle.<p>

He told everyone to fan out in packs of 6, all of them being led by someone who had a weapon. In his mental map, they were spreading out inside the prison, covering plenty of ground. But Logan needed more soldiers in his army that he'd created. He needed to reinforce his western flank. If the flank fell, then they would be surrounded. The general would die, and morale would be broken. The battle would be lost.

Logan began unlocking every cell he came across. He was still hunting for David, though. So far, he hadn't had any success.

The cell block area that he'd been in was clear. So there was no David in that part. But Logan needed to find the other cell blocks. He followed a team of inmates down a long, narrow hall. They were headed to the cafeteria. Undoubtedly, there would be a large presence of security guards there. By protocol, the Federation always maintained a number of security personnel inside the cafeteria, because that was where most of the fights happened at. Logan needed to capture the cafeteria. That would deal a major blow against the Federation security forces.

The pack of inmates burst through the large set of double-doors into the cafeteria.

There was fighting everywhere. It was a massive brawl. Tables were tossed over, and chairs were being thrown around. Logan hugged the wall to keep an eye on everything. From his perspective, it looked like the Federation were winning. A few gunshots rang out on the other side of the massive cafeteria, and Logan instinctively ducked low. He had his own handgun, but he didn't want to risk shooting one of the inmates. There were no clean shots that he could take. He would have to weather this storm while he was in the middle of it.

Logan rushed up behind a group of inmates who were struggling against a team of guards equipped in riot gear. The guards were sporting riot shields and helmets, pushing the inmates back.

If they could get their hands on those shields...

Logan rushed over to a small round table and pulled it behind the struggling inmates. He grunted as he used all of his strength to pull it - it was a heavy table. When he got it in place, he took a few steps back, lining himself up with the table and the riot-shield guards and prisoners. Then he tucked his stolen 9mm into the waistband of his sweatpants.

Logan sprinted forward, breaking off as fast as he could. He leaped up onto the table and used his momentum to push-propel himself forwards. It was a very high jump. Logan had pushed off of the table with his left leg. He soared through the air, twisted and tucked his legs and arms in, cleared the line of prisoners, and crashed into a pack of guards. They all crashed into the floor in a big heap. Logan's land was softened by the mass of guards that he'd landed on.

Logan had successfully felled at least 6 of the guards - more than enough for the prisoners to gain the upperhand in the struggle. He was sprawled out on top of 3 of them. Without wasting time, Logan pulled out the 9mm and directly fired it into the three guards. There was no risk of hitting an inmate in this position. The gun discharged, dealing devastating damage at such close range. Blood erupted from the bodies of the guards.

Logan rolled off of them and got to his feet.

"Take their shields! Drive them back!" He shouted.

The prisoners scooped up shields and charged the fleeing guards, screaming and shouting at the top of their lungs. They brushed past Logan as he whirled around to scan the rest of the cafeteria.

The guards were routing. Logan felt a huge wave of relief. The cafeteria had been taken. His riot was going according to -

- A hand gripped Logan on the shoulder, and he spun around, bringing the 9mm up to bear. He had it aimed directly at the face of David.

"David!" Logan shouted, immediately lowering his pistol.

"We gotta get out of here, asap. Follow me - I know a way." David said.

This was Logan's first time seeing David since in-processing. He looked scraggly and worn out, but Logan figured that he probably looked the same way. That's what a few days in the pin could do to you, Logan guessed.

David was right. They were running out of time - probably already out of time. It wouldn't be long before the entire prison was surrounded by Federation forces. If they weren't long gone by then, then they might as well get back into their cells. While Logan's little uprising had worked as planned, it was doomed to fail. What could a bunch of untrained prisoners hope to do against a professional military? Logan got into step behind David. They had a long ways to go before they were free again. Even if they managed to get away from the prison, the Federation would be hunting down anyone who'd managed to get away.

If they got caught, Logan didn't think that the Federation would risk letting them get away again. Ever again.


	5. Chapter V

**2016 August**

**Act I - The Early Days**

**California**

_Growing up, Dad was hardly ever around. He'd been in the military a long time. In one of the advanced groups. Spec-Ops._

_The only holiday that he could be home for, with some amount of certainty, was Christmas. And even then, there was no guarantee. Other than that, there was no telling when they'd deploy him. And he would get deployed often._

_It'd been like that all the way up to mom's death. After she died, he didn't get deployed as much. And then he started training Logan and me. We learned from him, and it made us better. He'd given us the skills required to survive anything._

* * *

><p><strong>Leonid Zhaetsev<strong>

Leonid was a Federation security guard for the prison.

Not really, but he looked like one.

Which was good enough for his well-orchestrated plan.

After becoming one with the inmates, Leonid had gotten started on his plan right away. It'd been going smoothly at first. Which was to do nothing at all until Monday morning. Monday was the day that the security forces would be the least attentive in their daily duties. Which meant that Monday would be the best day for him to initiate Act II of his pre-designed plan. His timetable had been carefully crafted down to the finest details.

But the recent events had thrown a wrench into that plan. In a sense, it'd made Leonid's job both easier, and harder.

Easier because Leonid had taken full advantage of the miniature uprising that the Logan boy had started. He'd followed the mass army of inmates in their blitzkrieg across the prison. On the surface, it'd looked like Leonid was a part of the assault. But in reality, Leonid had been far from it. The reason why was because Leonid had been hunting for a suitable security guard. So that he could take the gear and equip it on himself. Due to Leonid's higher-than-average height, finding one hadn't been easy.

"Secure the mess hall!" Leonid shouted to the team of security guards behind him.

Foolishly, the Federation guards had assumed that Leonid was one of the high-ranking officers of the prison. Of course, Leonid wasn't - but the Federation didn't know that. He was using his temporary status of power to the fullest degree.

The security guards rushed past him down the long hall leading to the inmate mess hall. They resembled an army of ancient soldiers, with their shields raised up and their electric batons. A hurdle of heavy footsteps pounded down the narrow hallway, bursting into the mediocre dining area at the end of it.

With that distraction out of the way, Leonid swiveled around and did a mental scan of the prison.

First, he went back to the day he'd gotten processed in. He'd mentally recorded all of the turns and pathways that he'd taken before arriving at his cell. Next, he recalled his first trip to the inmate mess-hall on his 2nd day in the prison. They'd gone down a long hallway, much like the one that he was currently standing in. A series of lefts and rights. And then a steep stairwell. And then, finally, the mess-hall itself. In total, it'd taken 13 minutes and 39 seconds to get there, from the time that Leonid had left his cell. After that, Leonid began checking the mental recordings he'd made during all of his other brief trips around the prison. Finally, Leonid ran a quick calculation through his head.

Through all of the walking he'd done, not once had he come across what he assumed to be the HQ of the prison - which he figured was the warden's office. From his experience in prisons, Leonid wasn't even entirely sure that he'd even come close to getting near one. The hallways would look different once you got within range of it. There wouldn't be as many security guards. Things would look cleaner. All of the critical signs. Leonid hadn't encountered any of them, yet.

Meh.

Leonid had covered roughly 75% of the prison before the mass uprising had started. And he'd covered an extra 15% since then. That added up to a total of 90% that Leonid had registered in his mental recordings. Which meant that only 10% of the prison was still unaccounted for. Leonid knew what that 10% was - where that 10% would be located. And if his mental calculation was correct, it would take him roughly 5 minutes and 17 seconds to get there. Which was hopefully more than enough time for him to locate the warden's office before the Federation caught onto his little act.

Once located, Leonid could easily gain access into the Federation files stored on the computers inside the office. It would be nothing for him to reroute all of that data to Alena's computer. And just like that, they would have gained a sizable advantage over the Federation. Alena could gain secret access to the network.

The only snag in the process would be Logan and David. Elias' boys.

No matter. He needed to work his way to the uncharted region of the prison ASAP. The Federation weren't the smartest bunch, but they couldn't be fooled for long.

Leonid started off at a reasonable pace. 'Reasonable' meant faster than average. He needed to look the part as much as possible. A leisurely stroll in the middle of a prison riot looked suspicious. And Leonid had to mentally keep track of his accent. He could mimic a perfect North American accent - or any accent, for that matter. But it isn't easy.

He made a left turn up ahead. This hallway was different from the last. Doors lined both sides, and several of the lights were beginning to flicker. Leonid didn't know what was down this hall, so he decided to find out. He twisted the cap on his head slightly as he began his march. The timer in his head told him that he still had a few minutes to kill before the Federation began actively looking for him. The riot was still ongoing, but most of it had been defused over the past hour. They were beginning to take names. The only groups that still needed to be dealt with were the prisoners who'd set up a perimeter within the courtyard, and it wasn't many. On top of the fact that an officer was missing, and Leonid was wearing that officer's uniform.

A pair of Federation security guards emerged from the hall up ahead on the right. They were running at a reasonable pace, rushing to get somewhere. Leonid looked down and messed with his hat as they came his way, hoping to keep unnoticed. To help, he moved over to the right side of the hall, giving the guards plenty of room.

At first, he thought that it'd worked. Their footsteps hadn't made any signs of slowing down or anything. But then Leonid felt a hand slap him on the chest, stopping him in his tracks.

"Hey!" The security guard shouted. In Leonid's peripheral vision, he could see the guard's partner stop in his jog as well, wheeling around to face him.

Leonid grabbed the guard's arm that was on his chest, twisted it hard, and pulled. At the same time, he swung a hard blow with his left elbow. The hit connected perfectly, and Leonid heard the crunch as the guard's nose was shattered. Leonid grabbed the guard by the collar of his shirt and shoved him into the wall on Leonid's right.

Without missing a beat, Leonid twisted and ducked down low - narrowly escaping the heavy-handed blow thrown by the second guard. He threw 2 straight jabs in rapid succession at the guard's belly. As the guard doubled over, Leonid stood up. He put his right foot behind the right leg of the guard, and then shoved. The guard stumbled back and hit the ground. Leonid kicked the guard in the head, twice.

He spun back around to face the first guard. It wasn't over. The security guard who'd put his hand on Leonid was sitting on the floor with his back against the wall, holding his face and wailing. Leonid crouched down in front of him and shoved his head into the wall. There was a loud smacking sound, and a spot of blood. The guard slugged off to his side and laid on the floor at an awkward angle, unmoving, and Leonid took his p226 Sig Sauer. Now it was over.

Leonid stood up, brushed off his stolen uniform, arranged his cap a little bit, and then started back marching down the hall.

The timer in his head had dropped by about 15 seconds. So Leonid was still good. He made the right turn that the guards had came from, and found himself standing in front of a set of double doors. He waited a beat, and then two, and then opened the set of doors.

* * *

><p><strong>Logan Walker<strong>

Logan had miscalculated. It didn't happen often, but it did. And whenever it happened, it happened in the most crucial of situations. Logan needed to fix that. He relied on calculations and shrewd guessing and maneuvering. If he screwed up on any one of those three, it threw his entire game into a mixture of glitches and bugs.

The problem facing Logan now was the fact that the Federation had caught up to him and David, much quicker than he'd expected.

"This way! Hurry up!"

Logan ducked beneath a low tree branch, leaped off of the ground, and slid down a long, steep hill. David was in front of him, guiding the way through the thick of the forest. A trio of bullets sizzled through the air just above Logan's head. Leaves and dirt kicked up behind David, and Logan was catching all of it in his face. The slide wasn't anywhere near as smooth as it is at the playground. Logan felt as if he was getting torn apart.

David hit the base of the hill first and rolled with the momentum, rising back up at full sprint. Logan did the same and caught twigs and broken pieces of wood in his hair. He dodged around the side of a tree and kept pace with David. _Stthu-stthu-stthu - _rounds were slamming into the ground and trees just behind Logan. This wasn't good. If they didn't duck the Federation soon, it would all be over.

"Up ahead - we'll lose them in the waterfall!" David shouted over his shoulder.

For a brief moment, Logan considered the alternative, which was surrendering. Jumping down a waterfall was certain death. There was no way they'd survive the fall, let alone the massive rush of water. With surrendering, at least they'd have a chance of getting away with their lives.

David emerged into a clearing, and Logan followed suit.

"Go!" David shouted as he hopped off of the cliff and into the falling stream of water. Logan did the same.

* * *

><p><strong>Leonid Zhaetsev<strong>

On the other side of the door was a room holding 3 Federation prison personnel. Two of them were behind computer desks, pounding away at their keyboards, giving orders through their microphone headsets. The third one was standing over their shoulders, directing them on what to do. The rank on his uniform was that of Colonel.

The brains of the operation.

Leonid aimed his P226 directly at the head of the Colonel. All three of them froze in place, staring wide-eyed and quiet. One of the computer guys glanced up at the Colonel briefly.

Leonid dug into his pocket. He moved neutrally, taking his time. His hand found what he was looking for - the stolen flash drive he'd taken earlier shortly after he'd first gotten out of his cell. He tossed it across the room without letting the P226 waver, and the Colonel caught it.

"Everything you have on those computers - I want it on the flash drive. Now." Leonid said, taking a few steps closer to them. He kept the gun aimed directly at the face of the Colonel.

"I can't do it." The Colonel said, shaking his head. "A breach in authorization will get this entire prison shut down -"

"Well," Leonid said, cutting the Colonel off. "You can't transfer some files... I can't keep you alive." He tensed his arm and adjusted his aim slightly. "Last chance. Don't be stupid."

"You must understand, Command will shut down this entire prison if I do that. We'll never be able to control these prisoners. They'll be running rampant! It'll be a -"

Bang. Leonid pulled the trigger, sending a round straight through the head of the Colonel. A plume of blood ejected from his head as he snapped backwards. Half a second later, the Colonel crashed to the ground in a bloody heap. The other 2 Federation guards jumped back in response.

Leonid pointed his weapon at the guard on the right. "Pick up that flash drive. Get everything there is to get."

Without saying anything, the wide-eyed guard nodded briefly and rushed to get the job done. The only sound in the room was the mashing of buttons on the keyboard. The guard made a quick glance back at the dead Colonel, and then started working even faster on downloading the Federation operational files. Leonid kept his weapon aimed in their general direction. From his experience, soldiers did one of 2 things when their leader died. They either routed, or they got desperate. Neither of these 2 guards could rout, which left only one option - get desperate. They didn't know whether or not Leonid would keep them alive after he got what he wanted. The guard on the left was probably trying to think of a way to get the jump on Leonid.

But Leonid wasn't worried. He rounded the side of the desk on the right so that he could see the computer monitor, and took 2 steps back to put himself further out of their range. There was no way either of them could try to attack him. Well, they could try. But they'd probably be dead before they even got half the distance to Leonid. He wouldn't hesitate to pull the trigger if either of them made a wrong move.

"Ohkay, it's done." The guard on the computer said.

"Put the flash drive on the floor, and then kick it towards the door." Leonid said.

The guard moved slowly and carefully. He sat the small stick of data on the floor, and then gave it a small kick. It slid across the floor and stopped about 2 feet short of the doorway. That was good enough.

Leonid stepped back around the desk, making sure to keep his weapon carefully aimed at the 2 guards. He knelt down and scooped it up. Then he placed it back into his pocket. And then he paused at the door. "You'd best get out of here while you can. If you still can." Leonid told them. Then he slipped out the doorway.

Hmm. A partial success.


	6. Chapter VI

**2016 August**

**Act I - The Early Days**

**California**

Logan held his breath.

It was dark - _very _dark. But that didn't matter. Logan had his ears, and the darkness was a welcome companion. It helped him to stay hidden within the shadows. And when he was hidden, he could be both dangerous and unseen.

Like a ghost.

There was a faint snapping sound right ahead. The snapping of a twig on the ground. And then there was breathing. Very faint, but breathing nonetheless. There was only one, from the sound of it. Just as Logan had figured. In that case, Logan surmised that the squad must be spread thin. Probably not many of them in total, judging by the fact that they weren't working in pairs. Hmm. Brutal mistake. A mistake that Logan had staked a lot on. He could _probably_ handle 2 of them at once with a successful ambush. But that would be too noticeable. Too big. Two guys scouring together turn up missing? That'd definitely have them hot on his tail.

Logan stopped thinking and started acting on instinct. He crouched down even lower on the tree branch. The flashlight attached to the soldier's helmet scanned around slowly and carefully, but Logan was confident he couldn't be seen. He'd chosen his spot well.

One step. Two steps. Three. Four. The soldier was armed with what looked like a Mossberg 500. He couldn't be certain if that was the weapon, but it looked like it. And it was deadly stuff, but Logan was far more deadly. Slowly, the soldier passed in front of the tree, unaware of the imminent danger. Logan tightened his grip on his self-fashioned knife. He waited until the soldier was a few steps past the tree, and then leaped.

Logan and all his weight came crashing down onto the unsuspecting Federation soldier. At the same time, Logan sank his knife into the soldier's neck and used his hand to cover the soldier's mouth. Blood gushed out onto Logan's hands, and they hit the ground. Logan could feel the muffled scream. He ignored it and stabbed the soldier once more. There was a moment of blood gurgled writhing, and then it stopped. He pulled his knife out of the dead soldier. It was slick with blood, and so were his hands.

Logan rolled off of the guard, breathing hard, staring into the night sky. His hands were shaking. They were covered in blood, in fact. But he was ohkay.

He searched the soldier. What he found was good enough. The gun was indeed a Mossberg. And the soldier had been packing about 50 shells. Logan didn't need all of that. In fact, he didn't need the Mossberg at all. Which was why he chose the small Baby Browning he'd found instead. There was only one extra magazine for it, though. It was good enough for Logan; he wasn't planning on going to war. But he used his shirt to try and wipe the blood off of the helmet so that he could try it on. It was a bit loose.

Logan shrugged and tossed it. He didn't need it.

According to his mental map, the woods ran on for about 5 miles to the north before breaking into a clearing overlooking Parker's Bridge. He could probably find his way back to the city if he managed to reach the bridge.

Logan shook his head. No. He couldn't do that. The Federation would hunt him down like a dog if he went there. They'd be assuming that the city was the only place he could go. And they would be correct in that assumption. Logan's only directive now was to survive. Get linked up with David, and then get out of dodge. There was no where in his mind that he could actually go to. Rumors existed of the nearby resistance cells. Logan was certain that somebody out there was at war with the Federation in this area, especially after that battle that'd happened. His best bet would be to try and find one asap. Dad had taught him and David to survive, but it was an entirely different game when there was a military hunting you down. Based on Logan's calculation, he would last about maybe 2 weeks at the most. That wasn't good enough.

Damnit.

In the meantime, he needed to get a move on. The Federation would be scouring this spot soon after not hearing back from the soldier he'd killed. Hmm. The game was changing, once again. Logan had just entered a new mission, with new rules and conditions. He and David had gotten split up after the waterfall incident. So objective number one was to locate David, once again. He had to find him.

* * *

><p>Sergeant Ricardo Morales had to find the missing prisoners.<p>

His squad had been dispatched immediately after they'd gotten word of an uprising at the prison. The inmates had been waging a strategical battle against the guards, which Ricardo had found strange. Reports had suggested that someone had been directing the prisoners in their battle for the prison. And that someone was a person that Ricardo had yet to catch. There were three of them, in fact. One of them was some guy that, for some strange reason, had no record in the prison catalog system. A mystery guy who'd apparently successfully impersonated a Federation officer to steal 2 terabyte's worth of information from the network.

And the other two just so happened to be the pair of boys that Ricardo had arrested in the first place. It was such a strange turn of events. It was strange for several reasons. The biggest reason being the fact that the kids were, so far, successfully managing to slip Ricardo's grasp. He'd pegged them as the 'survival' type in their brief encounter, but he was mystified as to how they could be so good at evasion. The mystery guy, Ricardo could get. He'd already deduced that the 'mystery' man was the Russian agent. But the two kids?

Ricardo was curious. He might ask when he caught them, but he was under strict orders to shoot on sight. No more prisoners, no more mercy.

His earpiece lit up with traffic.

"Sergeant, you might want to see this."

Ricardo stood up from behind the bush slowly and signaled for his team to press forward. Shadows moved out from cover and moved up by several meters. Then Ricardo tapped the side of his helmet and activated his microphone. "Talk to me," he whispered.

"The new guy, Juan. He hadn't reported in after 10 minutes. I sent a pair to search for him," Corporal Castillo said. "We found him."

Ricardo closed his eyes for a brief moment. "See if you can track the guy who did it. I'm sending my team to recover the body, but I'll catch up with you. Be careful."

"Roger." Castillo responded, and then the channel clicked off.

Juan was only 20. War is hell.

Corporal Castillo had been the same way. He'd almost gotten killed several times during the Caribbean Campaign. Hell, they all had. But Castillo had always been lucky. Which was why Ricardo relied on him so much. And lucky Castillo was close to catching the Russian guy - at least, Ricardo assumed it was the Russian who'd killed Juan.

Ricardo crouched low and made his way to the pointman of the team.

"Did you catch all of that?" Ricardo asked.

Pointman nodded.

"Get a move on, then. Be careful - these guys are dangerous. Never underestimate your enemy."

Pointman nodded again, and then signaled for the team to follow him.

Ricardo followed them for a while, but they soon split up. The team went in the direction of Juan's body. Ricardo went in the direction of Castillo, to hunt down the killer. The chase was on.

* * *

><p>Logan kept his pace fast but careful. He couldn't afford to be slow, but he couldn't afford to be sloppy either. The Federation would be tracking him by now. He was tempted to take the time to cover his tracks, but decided against it. It would take up too much time.<p>

There was a sound up ahead; at least, Logan thought he'd heard something. Which was enough to warrant his attention. He instinctively went prone and crawled beneath a thick bush, slow enough to keep from making sound. Looking out into the darkness, he couldn't spot any movement. He waited for 3 more minutes before crawling out from beneath the bush. He couldn't afford to waste time hiding from nothing. But he moved slower now, with his Baby Browning held out in front of him, finger resting on the side of the trigger guard. Logan made it about 20 steps before there was some scurrying in the bushes left of him.

His reflexes kicked in, and he swung the pistol around to face the threat. He'd nearly fired. But it was just a squirrel, scrambling to get away from him. It made a lot of noise as it crawled around in the dark, and Logan breathed a sigh of relief. His heart beat had spiked right there for a moment.

Logan thumbed the safety back on, and then proceeded forward. He'd been operating off of shrewd guessing to try and figure out what direction David might be headed in. It didn't work all the time, but Logan had faith in his calculation ability. His calculation told him that David was probably nearing Parker's Bridge. It was the only landmark that they both knew about in this area, which made it the prime spot for them to rendezvous. Heck, it was the _only _spot they could rendezvous. David would be embedded deep within the treeline on the northern side of the road, overlooking it. Waiting for Logan to show up.

There was still some ground to cover, and Logan wasn't sure if he could outrun the Federation. His plus time had dropped by about 4 minutes and 17 seconds after first hearing that squirrel. It was a bad situation, and Logan couldn't try to ambush them. It would be several of them. And they would be far more careful than the guy that Logan had killed. They'd probably be shooting on sight. All of that added together made them highly dangerous. The little small pistol Logan was packing would be nothing to the assault rifles and shotguns the Federation would have.

Damnit.

There was another shuffle of leaves, this time to Logan's immediate right. He swiveled to face the threat, but he was too slow. His gun was knocked out of his hand. He spun around and threw a kick to the attacker's midsection - that was caught in mid-air. Logan caught a brief glimpse of his attacker. It was a Federation soldier in the uniform of an officer. The officer put a leg behind Logan's left leg and shoved him. Logan collapsed to the ground.

The officer went for a pin maneuver, but Logan rolled out of it, stood back up, and then threw a blow. His punch connected on the officer's jaw, and Logan threw another one. His second blow was blocked by the officer's forearm, and then a left hook was aimed at Logan's head. The blow was swift and fast - very fast - but Logan ducked beneath it and reached to wrap the officer up to tackle him. Logan was partially successful. He wrapped the officer up, and made to toss him to the ground, but a sharp elbow to Logan's back caused him to loosen his grip. Taking advantage of that, the officer looped his arm beneath Logan's and then slammed him to the ground.

As soon as they landed, the officer rolled across Logan and had him in a choke hold.

"Stop fighting and listen!" The officer said in a Russian accent. Logan wasn't even paying attention.

Instead, he used his legs to press up off of the ground. They were standing now, but Logan was still trapped in the headlock, struggling to breath. Logan leaned forward as far as he could, put his left leg behind the officer's right leg, and then snapped back upright. It was a trick dad had taught him to break out of headlocks. It caused the officer to lose his grip on Logan completely, and Logan immediately threw a left elbow over his shoulder. The blow was a half-hit, but it staggered the officer.

Logan then twisted around and attempted to drive his knee into the officer's stomach. It was blocked, and then a headbutt rocked Logan's face, and he was rendered dizzy for a spell. Then he felt two quick jabs in his midsection, followed by a straight kick to the chest. It sent him reeling backwards, falling on his ass. But Logan rolled with the landing, and came back up on his feet, with his knife in his hand.

He felt dizzy and weakened. This guy was dangerous. Logan felt that he might actually lose this fight. He'd never lost a fight before in his life, except to David. There was a trickle of blood coming from a cut on his head, and he was breathing heavily. He wiped the sweat from his eyes and tried his best to focus on the Federation officer standing in front of him.

"Listen to me!" The officer said.

Logan still wasn't listening. He couldn't. All he could hear was wringing in his ears. He was in pure survival mode. Logan just bared his teeth in response.

Logan stepped off of his back leg and lunged forward. A kick was aimed at him, but he slipped past it and went in for the kill. Logan slammed into the officer and went to stab, but his hit was deflected. They tumbled back into the woods and crashed to the ground together. The hill they were on was long and steep, but Logan didn't care. He was tangled up with the officer, and couldn't effectively use his arm. They rolled down the hill together, and his knife was lost somewhere on the way.

After a grueling downhill journey, Logan came to rest at the base of a massive tree trunk, looking up into the sky. He scrambled to his feet and looked around frantically. There was a brush of movement behind him, and Logan instinctively ducked, narrowly dodging the vicious haymaker. Logan caught the arm in his hands and flipped the officer over him. Once again, they hit the ground together, but Logan had the upperhand this time. He wrapped his leg over the officer's chest, grabbed his arm, and pulled, putting the officer into an armlock.

The officer twisted on the ground, slipped his arm out of Logan's grasp, straddled Logan and then threw a jab. Logan covered up with his forearms, and the blow glanced off. He kicked and knocked the officer back, standing back up. Without wasting time, Logan threw a kick and then went in for another grapple. His kick connected on the officer's shin, but his grapple didn't work. The officer slipped an arm beneath Logan's neck and drove him into the ground. Then the officer used his legs to trap Logan.

Logan tried to break out, but he couldn't. He was locked. Everything went black.


	7. Chapter VII

**2016 August **

**Act I - The Early Days**

**California**

"Aye, sir." David said, mimicking the general Federation accent as best he could.

David had already dropped 3 Federation soldiers since emerging from the violent river. He'd gotten out of it luckily - the raging waters had nearly killed him. But David was determined; he wouldn't die until he got some real payback against the Federation. Right now, he was in a strong position to do just that - kill all of these soldiers he'd snuck his way into working with.

That wouldn't prove fruitful. It would jump amp up Federation presence, and he would probably never find Logan.

His 'squad' had encountered a Federation sergeant who was in pursuit of Logan, and for the time being, David needed the man's help. As soon as they found Logan, David would put an end to this charade and shake himself free of this uniform.

David hadn't exactly enlisted into the military, but he knew a good deal of small-based infantry tactics from what Dad had taught him. The Federation sergeant was the only one who seemed to have some skill, from what David could tell. The rest of their soldiers seemed like more of a militia force rather than a professionally trained military. It was a mistake that'd cost at least one of them dearly, according to the radio chatter in David's headset.

They emerged from a path running through a denser part of the mini-jungle into moonlight. Grass was much taller in this area, but there weren't as many trees or bushes. It was like a circular open area, making anyone foolish enough to walk into it a sitting duck. The sergeant signaled for everyone to hunker down.

"We need to split up here," he said. "You three," the sergeant said, pointing at everyone except for David. "Scan the far right and then proceed forward. Go."

The three Federation troops did as they were told, briskly merging into the shadows, following their orders to the point. That left David alone with the sergeant. He turned to face David, and David was thankful for the darkness that hid his features.

"Stay behind me and do what I say." David nodded in response rather than open his mouth.

Together, they broke off to the left, and David felt a noticeable shift in their speed. The sergeant was much faster without the weight of a squad holding him back, and it made David wonder just who he was. They crept just on the outside of the massive circular clearing, sticking to the shadows and ducking from tree to tree. For a moment, the sergeant held up his fist; only to put it down a few seconds later.

After approximately 10 minutes of dipping around in the dark, David was beginning to feel the first strains of fatigue. It wasn't much, but it was there, and David wished he had a canteen to take a sip of water. Creeping around at such a fast pace made your legs get tired, not to mention the gear and weapon David was packing.

The sergeant stopped suddenly and turned to face David. Even though the moon was full and bright, the trees overhead blocked off much of its light and David couldn't make out the expression on the sergeant's face.

"What unit are you with?" He asked.

David came up with a quick response, trying his best to sound natural. "I was assigned to the prison guard, sir. My CO ordered me and others to aid in the capture of the escaped prisoners."

David couldn't tell if the sergeant bought it. They stared at each other in the darkness for a few more moments, and David tightened his grip on his rifle. He wouldn't hesitate to open up if he needed to.

"I didn't know they trained you prison guards any good - especially seeing how you all let a small riot turn into a full-scale uprising."

"That is why I have orders to shoot on sight." David said.

"Your orders are to do what I say, when I say it," came the response. Without saying anything else, the sergeant pressed onward and David followed.

Roughly 25 minutes later, they hit jackpot.

After tracking and tracking for what'd felt like forever, they'd finally caught up to Logan. Except it wasn't just Logan, which caused David to hesitate. Hidden within a large shrub next to the sergeant, David could just make out the outline of someone carrying someone else over their shoulder. Was that Logan? Was Logan dead? David nearly unloaded his entire magazine, but restrained himself. Logan wasn't dead - no one would carry dead weight unnecessarily. It was still strange. What made it even stranger was that the person doing the carrying was wearing the uniform of a Federation officer. When the pair got out of earshot, the sergeant leaned over to David.

"That is the Russian. Do _not _open fire unless I say so."

David considered killing the sergeant right then and solving this situation himself - but he had no idea who this Russian was, and so he decided to play along, figuring that he could use any help he could get to neutralize the guy.

They crept along some more, struggling to keep pace with the pair without making sound. On the comm channel, there was a report of another dead body being found that was stripped of its uniform. The Federation soldier reporting it advised caution, as there was strong reason to believe there maybe someone impersonating the soldier. He also reported the rank of the dead soldier, and David had to resist the urge to maneuver so that the sergeant couldn't see the rank stenciled on his stolen uniform.

For a brief moment, David almost thought the sergeant would've pieced it together and turned on David. It didn't seem like the sergeant had cared, though, and so David kept up his charade for even longer.

The Russian took a brief moment of rest, putting Logan on the ground next to a tree before reloading a handgun.

The sergeant tapped David on the shoulder and did a series of hand signals. David knew a lot on infantry tactics from his Dad, but hand signals tended to vary depending on who you were dealing with. The only thing that David recognized from that whole series was a clockwise sweeping of his hand - and David hoped it meant what he thought it meant.

David rolled over to his left one full time and then got up to his knee as quietly as possible. The sergeant did the same thing in the opposite direction and moved in on the Russian. David swept a wide arc to the left, closing in on the Russian, and the sergeant moved in on the right. The closer they got, the harder David's heart beat.

* * *

><p>Leonid had been known they were following him - there would arguably never be a day when someone caught him off guard. To top it off, the other boy was imitating a Federation soldier, helping out the sergeant. Leonid had figured all of this early on in their little game of cat and mouse - way back before the Federation soldiers had split up at the clearing.<p>

They'd walked right into his trap.

Before they got any closer, Leonid suddenly collapsed to the ground and rolled out of sight into a large collection of bushes and grass, disappearing in an instant. He heard the shuffling of grass as the two reacted to his move. Instead of staying put, Leonid continued to roll deeper into the darkness, catching grass and twigs and chips of wood in his clothing, but he ignored it.

* * *

><p>David nearly cursed out loud, falling to one knee and aiming his weapon around, trying to figure out what'd just happened. The Russian had disappeared seemingly out of nowhere. He couldn't help but shake the feeling that he and the sergeant had walked right into a trap. David gritted and bared his teeth in anger, ready to start shooting at the drop of a pin.<p>

Off to his right, the sergeant signaled for David to move forward.

In this position, it would be nothing for David to swivel and put two into the sergeant. It would happen in less than a second. But he couldn't afford to now - not with the Russian running loose. He really did need the sergeant's help now. Which meant he had to play along and risk catching a round in his head.

He moved forward cautiously, ready to fire at a moment's notice. It was dark but that didn't bother David. He would see if anything moved. With his weapon raised, he crept forward until he reached the tree where Logan was. This was the spot where the Russian had simply vanished. David could see nothing but more vegetation, and he heard no movement at all.

David took a quick moment to check Logan's pulse. It was there; he was unconscious. There were a few scars and cuts on his face, but nothing serious. Blood was on his hands but it wasn't Logan's. The last time David had seen him, Logan had managed to catch hold of a large rock in the river, keeping himself from flowing to his death. David hadn't been so lucky.

He turned to face the sergeant.

What he saw made him raise his rifle, ready to shoot. The Russian had a pistol up to the head of the sergeant, holding him in an unbreakable headlock. David held no love for the sergeant, but as it stood, the Russian was just as dangerous. He stood up and prepared to open fire, killing them both. It didn't matter how this situation played itself out to David, as long as he was gone with Logan.

"You can put down your pea-shooter, David." The Russian said.

Had the Russian not said his name, David would've unloaded on both of them until his magazine ran empty, but his interest was piqued now. He knew the sergeant had figured out that he wasn't a Federation soldier by this point.

"What is this!" David demanded.

"I don't have time to explain now. But you must follow me to your father's hideout. And he," the Russian said, giving the sergeant a rough shake. "Is coming with us."

"Why shouldn't I put a round into both of you right now and be on my way?"

"Don't try it, boy."

* * *

><p>Alena stared at her computer in disbelief.<p>

Had Leonid gone through these measures? She knew he often took unorthodox methods to achieve his goals, but she would've never guessed it would stretch this far. He was putting their entire operation in jeopardy - this would draw the Federation like a moth to a flame. Leonid had practically turned the entire prison into a warzone - it _had _to have been him.

She rubbed her eyes. Alena had gone a long while without any sleep, and it was starting to get to her.

She pulled up a program on the computer and typed in a message, then hit enter. A minute later came the reply.

_Good._

Alena waited another moment and then typed up another message. This time, it took longer than a minute for the reply to come in. She'd nearly nodded off to sleep. She took a swig of water and read the reply.

_We'll be back soon. Wait until we get there._

With that, Alena turned off the program and took one last look at the scene on her computer. Red flashing dots showed just how intense the situation at the prison had gotten. For a while, it'd looked as if it would die down, but there'd been something of a renewed effort amongst the inmates, and the entire uprising had escalated even more. The Federation Security Council would know that this wasn't some random public order problem, and would start looking deeper. Alena only hoped Leonid had covered his tracks.


End file.
